PROMOTION Speech much like inciting a rebelion words full of sanctimonius wrath a form of disguise, substituting motivation ó hear yeah, the wisdom of the righteous † † †candidates selling themselves off †† † †as the champion of your interest
SALES The exercise of free choice in democracy is much like a market of monopoly where choices are limitted edition only ó vote yeah, †the brand of oligarchs †† † greedy crocodiles who gave away money †† † In public coffers they profitted greatly
A man of many words can inspire lots with a tiny verse of courage, A woman has finely tuned emotions, With unfathom pinpoint intuition, A neutral being is beautiful to, With insight to equality, A naturouse plant that grows all over, With undying growth, lifes quality, An for the animals that roam this earth, Your so wondrous an natural.
There's so much beauty in the world, From urban town, to land rural, Keep and accept all the beauty That you find and seek, for this will, Enrich your soul and Life's being.
When maybe it's only that just out of reach nest of dreams † † We're destined to chase and reach for pulling us through † † Until we just stop ... all a ploy to keep us moving until we can't † † † Or not ... †
they say we write lonely that there has to be some sadness in poetry but what if we just float eyes closed/face up breathing slowly/bobbing gently with every filling of lungs water enveloping our senses reminding our amphibian DNA where we came from not sad/not lonely just there like primordial survival and what if the distance between words feels like bioluminescence like magic like life †
i read a theory once on being the only consciousness in...
And the wind soughing in the trees Catches in their ears, is sent out In scouting parties of sensation down their spines. If you say it became language or it was nothing, Who touched whom? In what hurtle of starlight? Poor language, poor theory Of language. - Robert Hass
I take out the box, it could be any kind- a shoebox or a treasure chest, or a room- and currently the lid is closed. Iím not here to talk about the cat, if itís dead or present. Here I am in life, opening it and what do you know but a...
We say who we were right then. Tell me, were you made to uncurl your proboscis and bend the antennae down as the television turns into dirty snow. We disturb each otherís entry-ways with tell me more, tell me more about the world outside, Iíve just came from this place, this cemented state,
something grey and narrow and it wasnít the sky, I barely made it out. The subject always leaves the kitchen lights on with the grace of a million moons. Somehow, we flew there without science. Once upon a hot night, I...